


we both keep on waiting

by allidon



Category: All American (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allidon/pseuds/allidon
Summary: She thinks this is the longest conversation they’ve had since she got home.





	we both keep on waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Fits somewhere in 1x01 while they're waiting for Spencer to move in. Mostly because I want more Baker-sib interactions.
> 
> Title is from Final Masquerade by Linkin Park.

Jordan’s presence in her bedroom is a surprise. It didn’t use to be: when they were kids they’d spent as much time in each other’s rooms as they had in their own, but that hasn’t been the case for a long while. Now they’re lucky if they pass in the hallway on their way to living separate lives.

She’d say it hadn’t been her choice, but then she’s let it happen just as much as him. _Taking responsibility_. She’s supposed to work on that.

He’s hovering, looking at her books like he might in the house of someone he just met. Some of her things seem out of place, ornaments not quite where they should be. Her stuffed tiger is tucked under his arm, instead of its usual home on her bed.

He turns as she comes in, seeming almost startled even though _it’s her room_. His expression is unfamiliar, none of the usual confidence he displays when they run into each other at school. It’s vulnerable, almost lost.

“What is it?” she asks him. She’s almost afraid of the answer. She’s already carrying more secrets than she’s ever intended, and she’s not sure she has room for any more.

He hesitates, his mouth pressed together. She raises an eyebrow; he rolls his eyes. They used to be so good at this.

“Are you really ok with it?” he asks, finally. “Spencer moving in?”

“Should I not be?”

He sighs, frustrated. “I don’t know. I at least expected something.”

And isn’t that the kicker. Everyone expects something. Feel less, feel more. Remember, forget. Pretend that curing the symptoms solves the problem. Pretend, pretend, pretend.

She lets her own frustration show, a little. “Why are _you_ so bothered by it? Now our lives can revolve around football even more than they already do. I would have thought it suited you just fine.”

His frown cuts a line between his eyebrows. It doesn’t make him look any less handsome; it’s an old family joke that it’s impossible to take Jordan’s anger seriously when he just looks like a kicked puppy. She used to tease him for it. Now it stirs lingering resentment.

She’s not proud of that.

“C’mon, Liv,” he says. “Him being here, Dad putting so much focus on him. Surely you don’t want to share him anymore than I do?”

“Maybe that's the difference,” she says as she moves closer to take the tiger from him and put it back in its place. She leaves her back to Jordan when she adds quietly, “I’ve always been second best where Dad's concerned.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She can’t resist the sarcasm as she turns to face him again. “Really? Jordan Baker, star quarter-back? Oh, I wonder _why_ Dad’s more interested in you than me.”

He at least has the decency to look apologetic. “I can’t help that.”

“No,” she agrees. “But you can’t expect me to sympathise either.”

He stares at her for a long moment. “My mistake, then.”

“Guess it was.”

He moves towards the door. “Dad said they’d be back soon. We’re supposed to be downstairs when Spencer gets here.”

“You do that,” she says, and then sits very deliberately on her bed. She’s got no interest in playing trophy daughter tonight. Or ever again really, but that option’s definitely not on the table.

He shakes his head, disappointed. It’s a familiar feeling. Comfortable. She thinks this is the longest conversation they’ve had since she got home.

“I don’t know what happened to you,” he says. He leaves before she can answer, his feet heavy as he heads down the stairs.

Her hands twist over in her lap.

“Neither do I.”


End file.
